


i don't care what anyone else thinks [prompt]

by bielsahours



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Tumblr Prompt, and maren doesn't like it, elsa shuts down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29762874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bielsahours/pseuds/bielsahours
Summary: a piece I wrote for a prompt on tumblr!tumblr: bielsahours
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Kudos: 18





	i don't care what anyone else thinks [prompt]

“Just – drop it, Maren, okay?” Her words were harsher than she meant them, slipping out in a haze of frustration. She pressed her fingertips together, her lips to the steeple and she closed her eyes, exhaling a long, controlled breath that did nothing to settle her nerves.

“No.” Her words, frustratingly firm, were unmovable, unshaken by Elsa’s own feelings. The worst part was, she knew she was right – they had to talk about this, she knew they did.

That didn’t make it any easier.

“I won’t drop it.” Honeymaren’s voice had never more resembled steel, unnervingly quiet, cutting, Elsa dropped her hands to the desk, turned her eyes on her wife who stood at the other end of the castle bed-chamber, hair loose and flowing, for once, making her seem all the more formidable. “Elsa, this is important – _please._ ”

Elsa sighed, turning her head away again only for the chance to inhale freely, deeply. Then she turned back to her wife, her whole body adjusted now, her fingers tangled together like the knots in her stomach.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Her voice was heavy, her throat beginning to thicken with the threat of tears. She pushed them down – she would not cry, not now. Later, maybe, but this was important. She could not, would not, succumb to her emotions.

Even as she thought as much, she noticed the frost creeping up the walls, climbing to the windows and the ceiling, and knew that, if she wasn’t careful, it would soon spread out into the halls. She inhaled, fisted her hands, and relaxed them again.

Perhaps it was her imagination, but the frost seemed to recede – just a fraction.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” Honeymaren’s voice was slow and strong with hurt and anger, the kind that only ever appeared in the dead of night. It came out in the darkness, when she needed to scream, and shout, and more often than not Elsa would whisk them away to somewhere alone, so that they could loose their sorrows together. But there was no escape tonight.

Honeymaren had begun to move closer, drifting almost dream-like along the bedroom floor, until finally she was stood before her. The way she moved, anger radiating from every pore, her arms merely an extension of her voice as it sped up, rising in volume and rage.

“I don’t care what they think – Kristoff doesn’t care, Ryder doesn’t care, and your sister _certainly_ doesn’t care.” She went on, tempo increasing as her emotions began to build, dark lashes now wet with tears. Honeymaren had been too angry to secure her dressing gown, and now it hung loosely from her shoulders. Her arms punctuated every syllable, her dressing gown flowing in response, serving only to make her look even more indomitable than she was. “I don’t care if Lord _Whoever_ of _Nobody-freaking-cares-where_ doesn’t think two girls should be married. **_I do._** ”

It was now that Elsa realized the wetness on her own cheeks, the pricking of tears in her eyes. She had always been amazed at Honeymaren’s sheer capacity to _express_ , to understand what she was feeling and to feel it – utterly wholeheartedly. Now was no exception.

“- and I don’t care if he doesn’t want to do business with Arendelle **_or_** the Northuldra now.” Her rant continued on, calloused hands balled into fists as though words weren’t quite enough, as though she had to keep something of her closed, lest all feelings escape in an utterly primal scream. “I don’t want his business, and I know Anna doesn’t either – you _heard_ what she said. I don’t **care** what he thinks, Elsa.”

Now she was on her knees in front of her chair, reaching for Elsa’s hands to wrap them in her own. She could feel the tightness of the muscles under the callouses, could almost feel her vibrating in anger, in a deep, righteous rage that was more powerful than anything the spirits had to offer. Elsa could see her in that moment, more raw and vulnerable in some ways than she had ever witnessed. She clutched Honeymaren’s hands as though her life depended on it, as though she was drowning, and the only thing that could keep her afloat was the feeling of their hands entwined.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” Her voice was barely a whisper now, and she lowered her lips to their joined hands, drifting her mouth over Elsa’s thumbs. She looked up, and it was as though all the fight had drained out of her in that moment, had left her kneeling; empty, and vulnerable. Their eyes met, and Elsa’s eyes welled with tears once again as she spoke, her voice hoarse, her throat raw.

**_“I only care about you.”_ **


End file.
